


The End of the After

by blowingwinds



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, finale speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6904435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blowingwinds/pseuds/blowingwinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a different. <i>New</i>. Yet, it tugs at the corners of her memory, and she knows she’s heard it before. Been called it before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End of the After

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [peterspetrellis](http://peterspetrellis.tumblr.com/)'s idea/speculation that I found incredibly rude but couldn't help but love. Thanks to [takethisnight-wrapitaroundme](http://takethisnight-wrapitaroundme.tumblr.com/) for gently coaxing me to write it. Title's from Ben Howard's _End Of The Affair_.

It’s a thin line between the things she knows to be true, things she feels -  _ hopes _ \- to be true, and things she’s told to be true.

He falls somewhere in between.

Her body knows him. Her heart beats faster, harder at the sight of him. His touch sends familiar shivers down her spine.

Her mind teases her with flashes of him. The tattoo. The ring. She prays those are more than just tricks of her confused state.

He tells her about memories and missions, and most of the time his story fits. Sometimes, though, he takes a beat too long before speaking. Or emotion flashes across his face before he schools his features into a careful mask again. She wonders then, just how much she can trust him.

_ It was your plan _ , he sounds frustrated as he keeps trying to convince her, his resolve faltering more and more each time. Only, she doesn’t know if it’s her stubborn refusal to admit it or his guilt of lying to her that coaxes him to give it up.

It’s easy with Weller. His world is black and white. Some days, she also tries to see it that way. Good versus bad. Everyone falling neatly in one box or the other.

Everyone but  _ him _ .

And her.

They’re stuck in the middle. Always a shade of murky grey.

* * *

In that moment, though, with her hands pressed against his wound in a pitiful attempt to stop the blood oozing from it, they’re anything but. The lines drawn, sides chosen.

“Didn’t think you cared,” his voice is cheerful, smile tugging at his lips.

“Don’t speak,” she feels his gaze on her as she steals a glance at her red-stained hands.

“Go. You have to go.”

She leans into his touch as he reaches for her, his fingers ghosting over the birds on her neck. She once asked about it.  _ What do any of them mean _ , he offered a beat too late.

“I’m sorry I failed you.”

She can’t tell if she’s the one he’s apologizing to, but the urge to protest dies in her throat with a name he whispers.

It’s not the one she’s grown into over these months. Or the one she’s been told was true but always felt pretend to her ears.

It’s a different.  _ New _ . Yet, it tugs at the corners of her memory, and she knows she’s heard it before. Been called it before. 

He grows still but she doesn’t bulge. For a long while, she just stays with hands clamped on the wound that’s no longer bleeding as if her stubbornness has the power to save him, and the name -  _ her name _ \- ringing in her ears.

When it fell from his lips, it felt like a caress.

A secret.

A goodbye.

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I cheated a little but I hate naming the characters, and couldn't find anything that _fits_ Jane, so here goes...


End file.
